


we got innocence for days!

by dangerousgays



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Come Eating, Dirty Talk, Light Dom/sub, M/M, PWP, Porn With Plot, Rimming, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-16 10:05:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18689308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dangerousgays/pseuds/dangerousgays
Summary: His asshole is loose and fucked out and wet, and Gerard can't wait to get his mouth on it.“Fuck, Frankie," he breathes, watches it clench around nothing. "Look at you, so fucking open and wet and ready. You're twitching for it, huh?"





	we got innocence for days!

**Author's Note:**

> u guys seem to rlly love the shameless porn so here’s more <33

"gerard," mikey calls from the front desk. "your 12 o'clock is going to be here soon. i'm going to get chinese." 

"okay," gerard tosses back, hoping mikey'll hear it through the open door between his hair studio and the reception area. 

"it's frank, by the way," mikey yells, and then gerard hears the door chimes tinkle once, twice, and then there's a slam and he knows mikey's gone. 

and, okay, maybe gerard's got a bit of a crush on his four-years-strong regular slash best friend, but it's nobody's business if he does. except for mikey, apparently, who just seems to know everything about gerard before gerard himself does. 

he's been friends with frank for almost ten-odd years now, since they met in freshman year of high school. now they're both twenty-four and out of school, still in good ol' jersey, and they have movie nights with mikey and mikey's friend ray almost every friday. 

gerard's only really been crushing on the guy (at least consciously) for the four years he's been cutting his hair, though. something about being up close to such a perfect jawline and so many tattoos and being able to touch his hair caught him hook, line, and sinker, and it doesn't exactly help that he's fantastic at his job and makes frank look hot as shit every time he's in the chair. 

he finishes sweeping the floor, loading all the hair from his previous cut into a small trashcan in the corner of the studio before plunging the comb and scissors he's just used into their respective water jars.

gerard glances at the clock above the mirror that spans the entire back wall, reflecting the afternoon sun from the massive skylight. it's 11:55, so he's got maybe twenty seconds before his 12 o'clock. frank always likes to make it to just in time to be what he considers 'early'. 

he hums happily along to the radio playing at a white noise level as he wipes down the shelves and the sink in the opposite corner quickly, making sure all of the caps are on the dozens of hairsprays and mousses and serums scattered on it. 

the door chimes again, and he hears a "hey, gee!" from the reception area. there's frank, right on time. 

gerard pads out of his studio and into the storefront, smiling at frank. "hey, frankie," he says with a grin. "what're you feeling up for today?" 

frank looks a little nervous, which in turn makes gerard a little nervous. frank's never been one to not speak his mind. ever. like that one time when he argued with a guy and then bashed his nose in at a gig for saying something about white chocolate. 

"uh," he says. 

gerard ghosts closer, reaching out to finagle with frank's current hair situation- a sort of quiffish swoop that does him justice, but not nearly as well as it could if gerard could have his way more than once every three weeks. "spit it out, frank," he says, ruffling his hair one more time before spinning around and beckoning frank into his station with a finger. 

"how do you feel about red?" frank blurts as he follows him through the doorway where gerard is already lowering the chair with one hand and grabbing a cape with the other. 

gerard looks up. "red?" he asks, patting the seat. "sit down and we'll talk." 

frank sits, and gerard feels him shiver when he fastens the cape on the back of his neck. cute. frank is really cute. 

"so," gerard says, making eye contact with frank in the mirror. "like, me six months ago red?" he kinda misses it, having an unnatural hair color. maybe he'll go blue soon, he thinks. 

frank nods, looking a little relieved he didn't shoot down the idea immediately. gee knows he can be a bit harsh sometimes, with styling and coloring, but there's no way he's letting any of his friends, let alone frank, walk out the door of illusions studio looking like anything but a god among men. 

"yeah," he says. "like. maybe just the sides? and leave the top a little longer. like-"

"like a faux hawk," gerard says, pulling frank's hair in front of his eyes between two fingers to measure the length before sliding in front of the chair to grab a buzzer and a comb. "just better. head on over to the sink." 

"exactly." frank smiles up at gerard as gee turns around to lead him to the sink, and he’s all cheekbones and nice teeth and sleeve tattoos and gerard wants to get on his knees right then and there.

"so," gerard says after a spell of quiet where he'd placed down his tools and retrieved the dye, shampoo, and conditioner off of a shelf. "how've you been lately?" gerard's not seen frank around for about a week- he said he'd been swamped with work, and it's believable considering how fantastic gerard knows he is at finding and signing nation-wide talent for his label, electric records. 

"pretty good," frank says, giving a happy little sigh as gerard wraps a warm towel around his neck and starts to soak his hair with deliciously hot water. "went out a few times, saw a few gigs." 

gerard hums in response, lathering in shampoo before rinsing it out and working in conditioner. "i can't believe how long it's gotten in just three weeks, frankie," he says. "i always forget that your hair grows like weeds." he pulls a towel from the stack behind the sink and wraps frank's head up before gesturing to the chair again. 

frank's been in the chair for a good two hours altogether when the dye's been set and washed out and the cut's almost done. mikey came back with chinese a half hour ago but gerard hasn't stopped to eat, focusing all his time on frank like he can when he doesn't have a 1 o'clock or a 2 o'clock. he likes catching up with frank, especially since he's so used to seeing him every day. gerard's stupid crush is so big that he's fucking frank-starved after barely a week. 

they're on the topic of the new bar down the road when frank says, "i went there a few nights ago," and twists one of the rings he wears constantly. "with brayden. we went to see a gig." 

"with- who?" gerard says, stopping a bit where he's finishing buzzing the side of frank's head. 

"oh," frank says, like it should be obvious. "he's- he's kinda my boyfriend? but not really. not yet, at least," and he smiles, small and kind of shy and gerard's heart falls to the floor and breaks into a million pieces scattered through hair scraps on the floor. 

"boyfriend," he echoes, his hand stalling again. he's almost done- it'll take literally a minute to finish and then he can go brood in peace and maybe cry a little and complain to mikey and feel bad about himself. 

frank meets his eyes in the mirror, and he must take gerard's own sadness and confusion as disgust or something, because his expression shifts to a barely-concealed anger faster than gerard can drop his gaze. 

"oh," frank says. "i thought you'd be okay with it, but if you're- like- against that, i can go."

he's a fucking hairstylist. he went to school for makeup and hair. he's kissed boys for dares before, in high school and college. does frank think he's straight? but gerard can only stare, because- fucking boyfriend. a boyfriend. frank is gay. since when was frank gay? who the fuck is brayden?

and here he is, thinking people told their hairdressers everything. especially a hairdresser who's their best friend. his hands shake as he unbuttons the cape and lets it drop to the floor. 

frank stands up and walks out without so much as a goodbye. 

mikey's in the doorway in a flash, and gerard can feel his heavy gaze on his back as he stares at the cape where it's dropped, not really seeing it. 

"what the fuck just happened?" mikey asks, and gerard forgets that mikey has always had his back and snaps a little. 

"did you know?" he spits, turning around to point an accusatory finger at his brother. "did you know frank was gay?" 

mikey looks like he's been caught a little off guard. but he says, "yeah?" like it should be obvious. like gerard should have fucking known, dude, how could you miss it?

"i didn't," gerard said, bitterly quiet. "i fucking didn't. you're supposed to tell your hairdresser everything." 

mikey looks a bit stunned. good, gerard thinks. 

"or at least your best friend," gerard continues, sinking his face into his hands. "he has a fucking boyfriend. or an almost boyfriend. i've known him for ten years and he never even told me." he's not too surprised when tears start to well in his eyes, but he swipes them away harshly like maybe it'll stop him from crying. it feels pathetic, to cry over frank now that he knows he's gay and has never given a second thought to gerard. 

"well," mikey says, "you never told him about you either, right?" and then he's gone from the doorway of gee's station, and back behind the reception desk. 

that gives gerard absolutely no comfort whatsoever, thanks for fucking nothing, mikey. he sits down in the chair where frank sat earlier and lets himself cry for the first time in a long time. 

-

frank misses the week-and-a-half touchup he'd set up with gerard while he was brushing the dye, and gerard can't say he's surprised. frank thinks he's a homophobic dickwad. 

he's been wallowing, he'll admit. he misses frank's friendship, but it's not just like either of them are busy. they're actively avoiding each other. gerard didn't even go to ray's for movie night, and when mikey gets home past midnight he tells gee that frank wasn't there, either. 

"dude," mikey says one day as gerard's miserably eating italian takeout during his lunch break. "you know you could just call him, and be like, 'hey, frank, i know you think i'm homophobic but really i'm gay too and i've wanted to bone you since high school.'" 

the thing is, gerard's considered it. he really has, but he's embarrassed. he did try the day after, but it went to voicemail and he hung up without saying anything. how could he not have noticed his best fucking friend was gay? what kind of shitty friend does that make him? he doesn't want to face it, and so instead he's doing what he does best- avoiding it. 

he tells mikey this, and mikey just looks at him, like, are you a fucking idiot? gerard thinks YES, as forcefully as he can, and mikey must get the message because he rolls his eyes and takes gerard's container of fettuccine and shoves him off of his chair. "you're dumb," mikey says, looking down at gerard from the chair he’s stolen. "if you had a single braincell you'd have noticed he's been trying to get in your pants since, like, sophomore year." 

this is news to gerard, and also, he thinks, very not true. he sits dormant for a minute, sprawled on the ground where mikey pushed him. 

"you've got a 12 o'clock," mikey tells him as he finally untangles his legs and uses the front desk to pull himself up. "it's 11:58." 

"great," gerard says, because it should be great. new customers and exciting new things and colors and cuts and styles should be great. but it's not, because he just wants frank back. it's sad that he's such a huge fucking pussy that he's doomed himself to having his best friend think he's a homophobic asshole for the rest of his life. 

he hears the bell chime and sighs before swiping at his black jeans and grey tank like maybe there's a way to get the hair off before his next appointment walks in. 

spoiler alert: there isn't. it never comes off. if gerard ever commits a crime, he's going to implicate a hundred people with the amount of hair he has on all his clothes.

the first thing that gerard notices is off is that mikey doesn't greet whoever just walked in. he's not the most expressive person, at all, but usually he's courteous enough to say a quick hi or give a short welcome speech to the newbies, but he doesn't. 

the second thing gerard notices is off is that when the person steps into his studio, it's frank. 

"hi," frank says. 

the third thing gerard notices is that he doesn't seem mad, which confuses him. usually you don't walk out on your friend and miss your follow-up and ignore him for a week and a half unless you're mad. 

"hi?" he says back, and it sounds like a question, which he guesses it kinda is. like, hi? are you mad? did you come here to shank me or could you really not find another hairdresser?

"let's start over." frank's biting at the metal ring in his lip, and gerard confusedly watches a smile playing at his mouth. and then realizes maybe he shouldn't be watching frank's tongue or anything, but his lip ring, god-

"i'm frank. i'm gay and i want to push you up against a wall," he says, and gerard's brain fizzles out a little.

frank's confident little smile starts to fall when gerard fails to do anything but blink for a second, but that's before he startles back into his fucking body and processes what frank just said. 

"oh!" he says. "i'm gerard. i'm gay too and i've wanted to shove my tongue in your mouth since high school." 

"perfect." frank moves closer, pulling his hands out of his jean pockets and moving up on his tiptoes to breathe into gerard's ear. "wanna fuck?" 

and god, gerard can't believe this is happening, it's all he wanted for so long, so he doesn't even respond. he just snakes his arms around frank and grabs his ass, squeezing a little. he thinks maybe he's moving a little too fast when frank groans quietly and rubs up against gerard a bit, and okay, yeah, hi there, frank is into it. he's wondering if he should fuck frank over the shorter shelf or maybe suck his dick in the chair, all the while still feeling up frank's ass, when frank bites at his earlobe and says, "c'mon, gee, you literally live up a flight of stairs. i am not letting you fuck me in your chair for our first time." 

gerard cannot wait to shove his fucking dick in him. 

he hauls frank up the steps from the reception area to his half of the apartment that spans the entire second floor of the shop, pointedly ignoring mikey when he informs gee that he doesn't have any other appointments for the day. 

it's hard to climb stairs when you're carrying a five and a half foot firecracker who's trying to feel you up absolutely everywhere he can get his hands on, but gerard manages, finally slamming the door open and throwing frank onto his bed when they get to his room.

"hey," frank says brightly when gerard braces his shoulders with his arms and slots a leg in between frank's just to feel how hard he already is. he's grinning like there's nowhere he'd rather be than under gee, and it makes him glow a little. 

"hi," gerard says back, leaning in to lick a stripe up his neck and smiling a little when he hears frank's breath catch a little. "can i kiss you?" 

"yes, fuck, please-" frank says, a little whiny, and then gerard's crushing his mouth onto his. frank immediately opens his mouth and shoves his tongue against gerard's, licking inside his mouth. he can only groan as he drops his hips to hitch against frank's before biting at his bottom lip and sucking the metal ring into his mouth. and oh, frank's really into that. gee can feel his dick stiffening against his thigh as he nibbles on the metal, before releasing it to wrap his lips around frank's tongue and suck hard, like he would a dick. and shit, now he's thinking about frank's dick, and he feels himself leaking in his boxers. 

he pulls off a second later, and frank looks so fucked out already it makes him groan. "fuck," frank whines, like it slipped out of his swollen lips. "fuck, gee, god."

"say it again," gerard says, shoving his leg harder onto frank's cock. "say my name again, frankie, c'mon," and frank does, groaning and dragging out the syllables like it's the only word he knows. 

gee's dragging his own pants and shirt off, leaving him with just his boxers, and then he's got frank's pants down before he even registers what he's doing. he moans quietly when he realizes frank isn't wearing any god damn underwear, the sneaky fucker, he was-

"been planning this," frank gasps when gerard grabs both his wrists with one hand and pins them to the mattress up above his head. that's a fantastic imagine for gerard's spank bank: the whole idea of frank planning this. "god, please, fucking fuck me," he says, and yeah, gerard's planning on it. he sucks on his own fingers for a second before reaching down with his free hand to shove frank's legs open and pressing a finger to his hole. frank fucking shakes when gee circles it with his pointer finger before pushing in to the knuckle, and he's tight, but gerard swears maybe- oh. 

"did you finger yourself today?" gerard asks, the thought hitting him like a freight train. his voice goes pitchy at the idea of frank reaching behind himself, bouncing on his own hand, god, jesus fuck. 

"yeah, i- harder, please- i did please, more-"

gerard knows an opportunity when he sees one, so he stops moving his fingers and looks frank right in the eye. “what did you think about while you fingerfucked yourself, huh?”

frank shifts his hips in a failed attempt to get gerard to move. “i didn’t- please, gee, keep going,” he hitches out. 

“no,” gerard says, smirking a little. 

“fuck, fuck, okay, i got off thinking about you sucking my dick, god, have you seen your mouth? so fucking good, uh-” and that’s new but so unbearably hot that gerard feels it run like electricity through his body, straight to his dick. he pushes a second finger in next to the first, and starts moving again, scissoring them before crooking them and pushing around until frank jolts hard, straining against gerard's hips and he knows he's found it. 

he rubs hard against frank's prostate, releasing his wrists so he can crush their lips together again. frank reaches up to grab gerard's face and fucking fucks gee's mouth with his tongue, in and out fast, and gerard totally fails at not thinking about how he wants it up his ass. he pulls his fingers out of frank's hole before circling three around, teasing and feeling the muscle fucking twitch- "fucking slut," he groans, before frank pulls his face back in- before sinking them in deep again. 

frank lets him go eventually, breathing hard, face covered in spit and lips bright red and gerard wants to fuck him into tomorrow. "spread your legs, baby," he says, and stands up to take his boxers off and grab lube from a drawer in his bedside table. frank rips his own shirt off, reaching down a hand to wrap around his cock while he watches gerard though lidded eyes. 

"you ready?" gerard asks, watching him dig a thumb into his slit whine loud. 

"is that even a fucking question, really, gerard? please put your fucking cock in my ass," he says, like the fucking brat he is. 

gerard gets back on the bed, forcing frank's legs open, before leaning down to fucking spit on his asshole and oh, that's hot, watching his hole twitch instead of just feeling it. he grabs onto frank's thighs and shoves his tongue inside, flicking hard and fast. 

“you’ve got such a good mouth, oh my god, fucking made for this,” he hears. frank shifts against him, presses down hard and tries to ride gerard's face. which, although gerard appreciates it, it's not the time just yet. he really just wants his dick in frank's guts. 

he drags his tongue out, pressing it flat against frank's ass before dragging it down to his balls and moving back to rub his face on the inside of one thigh and then pulling back completely. 

"no condom," frank says even as gerard reaches for one of the couple in the open drawer. "i want to you come inside me, fill me up, fucking hurry up, gerard," he demands. he decides he loves this side of frank- the frank who knows what he wants and demands it, like he knows gerard won't say no. and he's right. 

gerard startles when the lube is snatched out of his hand, and looks down in time to see frank's slick, tattoo-covered hand wrap around his dick and start to move, blurring the words on his knuckles, holy shit, it's the hottest thing he's ever seen and it's over too soon. 

"now," frank says, opening his legs even wider like he's fucking presenting to gerard, "fucking fuck me."

and who's gerard to say no to that? he lines up and presses in, slides in easy and slick and fuck, frank's ass is the best thing he's ever felt.  
"god," he barely groans out, thrusting shallowly. "you're so fucking tight, frankie, look at you taking me so well. fill you up so good, huh?" 

frank's head is back and his mouth is open, and gerard wants to shove his fingers inside. "jesus, so fucking big," he moans, shifting his hips to meet gerard's thrusts. "so much, god, your cock is so good, i want-" he peters out when gerard lifts his hips higher, trying to find the right angle and oh, there it is. frank clenches hard around gerard's cock, and he can barely do more than watch, his hips moving of their own accord, as frank twitches and makes the hottest little fucking strangled noise every time gerard's dick bumps his prostate. 

on a whim, gerard reaches up for his hair a little hesitantly before gently pulling, the tenderness at odds with the punishing thrust of his hips. "more," frank breathes, begging for it. "god, fucking pull it, gerard, c'mon," and so gerard does, yanking frank's hair to the side and watching him almost fucking scream in pleasure. 

"jesus christ," gerard says wonderingly, keeping his hand griped loosely in frank's locks. "you're really fucking into that, huh, like being controlled?" frank sighs out gerard's name again, like a prayer, and gerard forces him to crane his neck farther out so he can lean down and bite it. it must be a thing for frank, because he's coming hot and hard between them as soon as gerard's teeth meet his skin, and oh, maybe gerard has a thing for necks. he keeps sliding his dick in and out of frank while he rides out his orgasm, hands clenching and unclenching uselessly next to him on the bed.

"keep going," he demands when gerard starts to slow. "come inside me, fucking fill me, god, i want your come so bad, fucking- fucking breed me," and god, that's so weird but so fucking good coming out of frank's mouth, and he releases deep into frank's ass a second later. 

he's fucking shocked when frank starts to get it up again, just from gerard coming in his ass, but it's fucking hot and gerard can't breathe and he wants to tonguefuck him again.

gerard pulls out slow, watches the cum bead up and drip out of frank's ass before glancing up. frank's staring at him so fucking intensely gerard wants to shrivel up as if he wasn't the one giving the orders twenty minutes ago. 

"you're so fucking hot." frank’s slurring his words as he drops his head back down onto the pillow. "i want to blow you next time."

"sounds like a plan," gerard says, slinging a leg over frank's stomach to straddle him and tracing the chest piece he's always wanted to bite with a fingertip. "but right now, can i eat your ass again?" 

"yes," frank says immediately. "god, yes, gerard."

gerard slides off him and flips him over, and god, he didn't think he liked throwing people around but the way frank just fucking lets him is so fucking hot. he grabs frank's ass again, squeezing hard before lifting his left hand and bringing it down hard. he ruts a little against the mattress as he watches the skin turn red, and then spreads frank's asscheeks to see his hole. 

it's loose and fucked out and wet and there's cum slipping out, and he can't wait to get his mouth on it. "fuck, frankie," he breathes, watches it clench around nothing. "look at you, so fucking open and wet and ready. you're twitching for it, huh?"

frank shoves his hips up in response, muffling his his moans in a pillow. gerard finally, finally buries his face in between frank's asscheeks, pressing his tongue hard to the muscle before licking around the rim. gerard tastes himself, and it's so gross but so good at the same time. he pulls back to press two fingers to the hole, watching cum bead and drip out. he moans loudly, because fuck, that's his cum sliding down to frank's balls, marking him like gerard owns him. he spreads his fingers to either side of the furl so he can keep pressing and shoves his face back into frank's ass. 

this time, he doesn't bother teasing. he shoves his tongue right into frank's ass, plunging in and out. he wishes his tongue was longer, thicker, because he wants to feel more, taste more. 

"i'm going to cum," frank announces. "keep going, more, i wanna cum around your tongue, jesus fuck, you fill me up so good-"

"keep talking, frankie," gerard breathes against his ass. "do it, keep going." he dives back in. 

"c'mon, gerard," frank says. "so fucking desperate to taste me. how long have you been thinking about this, huh?" when gerard moans, frank's hole flutters around his tongue. "so fucking dirty, you're so fucked up, just a little more-" and then frank is clenching around his tongue, rubbing his dick on the mattress and coming all over the sheets. 

gerard flips frank over again and pulls him in by his hair for a bruising kiss, and it should be disgusting considering he's just eaten his own cum out of frank's ass, but it's just dirty and sloppy and wet and so fucking hot he can't breathe. 

"hi," frank says when he comes up for air. he pushes himself up to lay against the headboard and grins wildly at gerard. 

gerard can't not smile back. he looks like walking, talking sex with his wild hair and wet, swollen lips and hickeys on his neck. gerard feels privileged that he's the one who got to do this- and that's when the panic sets in.

he starts to say something but then there’s a mouth on his again, but this time it’s soft and chaste. gerard sighs into it a little bit. 

when frank pulls back he smiles up at gerard again. “i can hear you thinking from here,” he says as gerard moves up the bed to prop himself up against the headboard next to him. “stop.”

“easier said than done,” gerard says, and it comes out melancholy and quiet- which totally wasn’t what he was going for, on god. 

“i love you, gerard,” frank says. “i love you and i have since sophomore year and i want to be with you and sit on your face. will you stop now?”

“oh,” gerard says, because, “well, when you put it that way.” he giggles a little. “i love you too.”

“good,” frank says, reaching up to twirl a piece of gerard’s hair. “imagine mikey was lying, and you weren’t actually gay and into me.”

“i don’t want to hear about it,” gerard says. “i just kinda wanna blow you.” 

“give me ten minutes,” frank says, and gerard pulls him in to kiss him again. 

“we’ve got more time than that,” he says, and all is right.

**Author's Note:**

> i literally cannot write without inspiration so please give me ur fav aus/tropes/dialogues i will love u forever!!
> 
> also! let me know how u felt about the whole plot thing. do u prefer smut w/ or w/out??
> 
> anyways i hope u liked n please go show my other works some love they need it <3333


End file.
